Rain on a Mountain
by Aislin Cross
Summary: Compainion piece to Like a Wind in a Meadow and Into Shadow. Third in my Song of Rohan Arc. Eowyn's perspective on the events. DARK


AN: A bit more for my Song Of Rohan Arc. Goes with Like a Wind in the Meadow and Into Shadow. Eowyn's thoughts on the situation. Warning…angst to the nth power here folks. Enjoy…if that is possible.  Thanks to Al (ChaffonGal on this site) and Loi who put up with my bitching about this installment. 

Plug: Want to join a lovely rohirrim rpg?  Please go to http://www.avidgamers.com/Rohan and give the Riders of Rohan a shot. At the moment I need riders…badly.  Further information can be found in my bio page hope to see you there. 

Rain on a Mountain

Rohan is falling. I see it in the haunted eyes of my lord, and hear it in the hushed whispers of Eomer and Theodred. They wait at times, until they think I hear them not, restricting their conversations to private chambers or to the stables where they think that none will hear. They seek of course to avoid the knowledge of Grima, yet why do they attempt to hide it from me?  

No doubt if I asked this I would get some weak excuse about protection. But how would they protect me now from something I know is a reality. Yes Eomer, Little Sister knows. Indeed, perhaps she knows more than even you. 

You, perhaps have seen the shadows Brother, and see now what they do to us, but I, I have lived under them, still live under them, and can do nothing to combat them. 

Eomer, how could you possibly understand me? You have your swords and spears, your swift horses and your bright mail, but I…what is there in Rohan for me now, save for the leering eyes of Grima Wormtongue and the blank stares of one who is all but lost to us. 

And so, I go on, though there is nothing to be done here. I wait, but for what? For the death of us all? Somehow I fear it so. Theoden King is failing, daily. I see it and while I try to prevent it, there is naught that I can do.  

If Theoden should fall, if he should make that final plunge into darkness, what then? Theodred rides to the Fords at first light, and from the looks that Grima has been giving him since he arrived home...I like them not. I fear that something is at work here, a conspiracy to keep my cousin from the throne at all costs. Because he is young, and strong, and would not abide this. 

Theodred...I can't bear the thought of his riding out, that we may never again see him alive. He has been much to both Eomer and I, at turns a brother, a riding and weapons instructor and of course a friend. In all of this mess since Grima first came to us, my cousin has been the one constant. He provides the stability that Eomer's hot temper cannot. He is young, bright and refuses to be consumed by Grima's poison. For this, I fear that he may die. 

What happens then? Who remains to lead our people? Our king will not survive, and his mind is already poisoned against my brother for his rash actions and sharper tongue. Besides this, I worry for Eomer. I know my brother well. I see the frustration in his eyes; I watch it growing day by day. It is not Eomer's nature to bottle these things up so. I look on him and cannot help but feel that we are bound for an explosion and soon. And the object of his anger has already made our lives turn gray. 

Grima…even now his eyes follow me. At times I feel as though I will never escape them. Vile creature though he is, I cannot help but look upon him, and know that he knows things. Otherwise how else would he have gotten here? This withered form who pretends to care for my uncle, to have his best interests at heart and slowly tears him to bits.

I hate that we must live with this and have no way to fight it. I hate that my brother and cousin can at least itry/i but that I am powerless. I will not be Grima's plaything yet that is what he looks at me as. I shudder at the thought of what he would have of me and I promise myself it will not happen, but sometimes I wonder, is it not pointless to fight the darkness? Would it not be better to just give in? Hope for me is dead, so why should I bother to keep up the pretense of it?

I am trapped, we all are trapped and there is now no way to change that. Our people will fall and Rohan will die. Her songs and stories, the very heart of her people will fade, at first into the west, into memory, and then perhaps to legend. But will legend replace what we once had? 

No, I know it will not. And even legend fades so. An age, nay, even a century later we will be forgotten, forsaken. And none will live to remember us. 

Such an ending as the one I see before us was not to happen. Rohan should rise to fight this evil, to be lead by her king, so that even if we are destroyed, we shall be remembered. But I look now on my Uncle's face and see that this will not be happening. 

We will be forced to the darkness in the end. We will join it, or fall to it, as did Theoden. Which, I wonder is the greater evil? Being forced to die like dotards or admitting our defeat and moving on?

I dare not speak this to anyone. Yet I cannot help but wonder. When I am forced to make this choice, as all of us are, where will I be? I have not my brother's will or my cousin's cool logic in the face of fire. I have nothing, can do nothing, iam/i nothing. Shieldmaiden or no, there is nothing I can do here now.  

Hope is dead and with it so is Rohan. There are none to save us now. Hope is dead…and with it my heart. We go on perhaps but only to our deaths. And nothing can ever be the same. 

The darkness rises, consuming us all. Hope is dead. Or did I ever even have it? 


End file.
